Bunking With an Angel
by a-violet-by-a-mossy-stone
Summary: Castiel is tired. Maybe angels don't need sleep, but that doesn't mean they can't.


Castiel touched ground softly and glanced around. Dean and Sam were still at the coroner's office, the motel room was empty. He smiled and ruffled his wings, leaving a light shower of raindrops on the carpet near the door. As a soldier of heaven, any time alone was welcome. Although angels did not require sleep, he felt tired, his every fiber of his vessel right down to his grace ached with the weight of his exhaustion.

"Just until they get back…" he murmured, and fell clumsily onto Dean's bed, face first. Castiel nestled his face into the pillow and inhaled deeply. His scent was so unique, like leather and cinnamon, whiskey and gunpowder. It surrounded Castiel, leaving him feeling warm and sleepy. Rain pounded steadily against the window, the heater whirred softly in the background, and the angel's eyes drifted shut.

Castiel woke suddenly to the brothers having a whispered conversation in the motel room's tiny kitchen.

"I'm not sleeping in the chair!" Sam said indignantly.

"Shhh! You're gonna wake Cas!" Dean peered around the corner towards the sleeping angel to make sure he hadn't moved. Castiel held very still and just listened. He was so comfortable, unless they "woke him" and asked him to move, he wasn't going to. It might have been a little selfish, but he had never slept before, and he thought he deserved one night, just one, to rest before returning to their latest hunt.

He stretched his wings into a more relaxed position and settled himself deeper into the mattress just before he heard Sam say "…share the bed with him, he's out cold."

"I can't just bunk with an angel Sammy!" Dean sounded panicked. Castiel's felt a sinking in his chest, like an anchor thrown into the ocean.

"It's Cas. And besides, all he does is stare at you."

Castiel could hear the smirk in Sam's tone. The sinking was replaced by a familiar pounding, a pounding that took up residence inside his chest whenever Dean touched him, or called him by the nickname that everyone, even his brothers and sisters, had adopted.

"That's why I shouldn't", Dean said gruffly, forgetting to keep his voice down.

Sam raised his eyebrows and tilted his head towards the angel. "You stare too, and we both know it. Listen, I'm going to bed. If you want to sleep in the chair, that's up to you."

Before Dean could answer Sam walked to the empty bed, kicking off his shoes and shucking off his jeans before sliding under the covers. "Goodnight."

Dean grumbled to himself as he poured a tumbler of whiskey. He warred with himself. Dean knew that it would be warm and safe in the bed next to Cas, even though just being that close could easily be enough to keep him on edge, awake, all night. He should just sleep in the chair…

Thinking about it wouldn't make it any more inviting, or the crick in his neck he was sure to wake up with any less painful, so Dean plopped himself into the chair.

It's not like they normally stayed at the local Hilton, but this motel was one of the more decrepit he had seen. As if to prove it, the bottom of the chair dropped to the floor and Dean slid through the frame of the seat, sloshing what remained of the whiskey onto his shirt.

"Sonovabitch!" he swore under his breath.

He glanced over to make sure he hadn't woken the sleeping pair, and then swept the room with his eyes. This reeked of Gabriel's Trickster crap, but Dean saw no one. He wriggled out of the broken chair and picked himself up with a sigh, tugging his shirt over his head, flinging it to the floor. No way in hell was he sleeping on that carpet.

He kicked off his shoes, and slid the worn jeans off his hips to join the shirt. Dean drew in a deep breath and pulled up the blanket, climbing into the sagging motel bed slowly so as not to wake Cas. Dean felt something brush his face, something soft and cool, and he heard a sharp intake of breath. Suddenly there was a pitch black thing hovering right in front of his face, and he gasped and pulled his gun from under the bed in one swift movement.

"Dean, it's just me." Castiel breathed.

"Holy shit Cas, are those your wings?" Dean's eyes were wide in the darkness, but he lowered the gun. All he could make out was something that seemed to suck the light from the immediate area, something huge. Castiel placed a hand very gently on Dean's chest.

"You touched them, so now you can see them. I'm sorry Dean, I should have put them away instead of just keeping them invisible, but they were- Oh!" Castiel cut off with another gasp, this time louder. Dean had lunged forward and placed his hand flat on the inner curve of Castiel's right wing.

"Cas! Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry man, I just wanted to really feel them, I don't know what I was thinking." Dean stammered, his usual cool suddenly gone.

Castiel gave Dean a small smile. "It felt…nice. No one has ever touched my wings except Gabriel, to groom them, just once."

Dean reached out slowly, keeping his eyes locked on the angel's. As always, they reminded him of the sea during a storm. But this time there was something more there. Dean rested his hand on the crest of the right wing again, and stroked across the top very lightly. Castiel's pupils were blown wide, black nearly drowning out the blue Dean had unexpectedly grown to love so much.

"Please Dean…don't stop." Castiel whispered breathlessly. The pounding built to an almost painful pace in his chest when Dean touched him, he had never felt anything this good.

Dean brought his other hand up and carded through the thick dark feathers gently, straightening the ones that were going the wrong direction, smoothing the ones that stuck up funny. Castiel relaxed more and more as Dean worked his way to the center of his back, melting into the mattress, until Dean reached a small nub, the joint where his right wing met his back. Castiel sat bolt upright and whimpered. Dean smiled, but moved his hands to the far tip of his left wing and continued his ministrations without comment. Castiel felt things he couldn't explain, couldn't find words for. His stomach felt like fireworks in a black sky. His wings-his whole back- tingled, the way his foot did when it fell asleep. None of his thoughts made sense; all he could do was melt underneath those rough hands that he never knew could be so gentle.

Dean was so close to his left wing joint now that Castiel tensed, wound tight in anticipation, the tiniest of whimpers escaping from his lips. The hunter brought his lips to the angel's neck just as his hand began massaging the joint in slow, gentle circles. A moan tore free of Castiel's throat, and Dean found himself underneath the angel, hands tangled in his hair, lips moving together in a way that was completely new, but comfortable, warm. It felt right.

Wrapping his arms around Cas's back, Dean pulled him in closer, wanting more but letting Cas set the pace. Dean swallowed the soft sounds Cas made, a hand tangled in his feathers, the other on the back of the angel's neck. Cas ran his hands down Dean's chest, scraping again the skin just hard enough to leave trails from his collarbone down his abdomen, tracing the hard angles as he moved he lips to Dean's neck, kissing and biting gently. Dean moaned in appreciation, and fisted his hand tightly in Castiel's feathers, earning a moan from his angel, who suddenly froze.

"Sam is awake" Castiel breathed into Dean's ear, a blush creeping across he cheeks, his eyes bright.

"Yeah, I am, but don't mind me." Sam piped up. "It's about time you two got on with it, you've been flirting forever. Luckily, I brought ear plugs." He held up a small colorful package and inserted them into his ears, turning to face the wall. "Goodnight!" Sam's said, a bit too loud, with a goofy grin.

Castiel looked mortified, but Dean just chuckled softly. "C'mere, angel face."

Castiel snuggled into the hunter's chest, surprised that Dean would be okay with cuddling. He just didn't seem the type.

As if he heard the angel's thoughts, Dean laughed quietly again, stroking the ever-present stubble on his cheek. "I just want to be close to you. Sam's right, this took way too damn long." They kissed slowly for a few minutes, and Castiel felt himself growing sleepy again. He felt so safe, so warm and happy, and he nuzzled into Dean's chest with a happy sigh as they drifted off.

He could get used to sleeping , Castiel thought, if it always felt like this.


End file.
